Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 68



Patrick didn’t join the inner circle at the auction, unaware of the reasons behind the scenes. He thought Dustin was on the prowl for a Dorsey International employee, so when he heard Max’s message, he didn’t hesitate to shoot back a reply.

Dustin was sipping a glass of red wine when he received the message.

The casino tables around him were crowded, filled with the scent of perfume and the clinking of glasses, as the banquet had spilled over into this space. The city’s nightscape stretched out beyond the huge floor-to-ceiling windows.

Several women stood not too far away, gazing dreamily in his direction, but Dustin paid them no mind, his attention fixed on the message from Patrick.

He, a man who flirted his way through social circles, and Max, the untouchable elite, were worlds apart. After the scandal involving Max broke out, Dustin had always found the man to be a bit pretentious.

In the high-stakes financial world, men forever dominated the scene. Many daughters from venerable families were raised as prey from the start. They were unlike ordinary girls, boasting top-notch educations and glittering backgrounds, but in their parents’ eyes, they were still just prey, and the elite men at the center of this circle were the hunters.

It was a grand seduction, prettily termed as ‘strategic alliances’ by the outside world.

To Dustin, Max’s disinterest in women was exceedingly odd.

Dustin, propping his cheek with one hand, scoffed and wrapped an arm around a bunny girl next to him, exchanging a few playful words before dropping the subject. He figured it’d be the same when he met that woman in Australia.

Meanwhile, Max’s meeting dragged on until three in the morning. Loosening his tie as he headed upstairs, he was greeted by a faint scent upon flicking on the room lights. © 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

Was that scented candles?

A slight bulge on the bed indicated a presence, and a woman’s dark hair spread across the pillow, making her skin look exceptionally enticing.

She must have found the light too harsh, for her eyelashes fluttered, and she turned over. The silk comforter slipped slightly, revealing shoulders as delicate as a crescent moon.

Max stood by the door, dimming the overhead lights and leaving only the bedside lamp on. He hadn’t expected her to be asleep in his room, let alone that she had lit scented candles.

He shed his suit jacket and took a shower. Coming out, he found her awake, slightly dazed, clutching the comforter and looking up at him with a faint gaze. Her hair was a tousled halo in the soft light.

15:30

Max’s breath hitched, and he strode over, capturing her lips with his own.

Brielle thought she was dreaming again, one of those sensual, paralyzing dreams.

Their breaths mingled in the rising heat. By the end, she almost wanted to plead for mercy, but her mouth was sealed by his.

Sweat dampened the hair at her forehead, her eyes misty. Max looked down at her, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “Tired?”

His voice was rich and mellow, like snow in a volcano, gently melting away.

Brielle lifted her eyelids lazily and hummed in response. It was a purr, cat-like, scratching at Max’s heart with an inexplicable itch. He frowned slightly, baffled by his own emotions. The result was that Brielle had no strength the next morning and slept the entire flight.

Beaconsfield was entering autumn, and she wrapped her neck with a silk scarf to cover any marks.

Max was fond of her body. He didn’t say it, but Brielle felt it. He was also particularly fond of her lips, especially her Cupid’s bow.

Standing in front of the airport restroom mirror, Brielle touched her lips.

When they arrived, she told him to go ahead, staying back under the pretext of waiting for Aubree. It was just an excuse, a moment for her to gather her composure.

Max was too sophisticated with his moves, perhaps unintentionally so, but always enough to leave one restless. This wasn’t the outcome she wanted.

Brielle took a deep breath and splashed her face with cold water, cooling her flushed

cheeks.


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